Steven Cole Smith: Classic Camaro was great fun while it lasted

Steven Cole Smith, Orlando Sentinel Automotive Editor

KISSIMMEE – In just six years, the Mecum Auction, held last weekend at the Osceola Heritage Park, has become the top Central Florida classic car auction. This year, the four-day event featured more than 1,000 vehicles, plus lots or memorabilia such as neon signs and vintage gas pumps and full-sized mannequins that look like Elvis.

Which brings us to a call from St. Cloud resident Larry Berry, a member of the Mid- Florida Corvette Club. Mecum needs a reliable group of people to move the auction cars from distant lots, to the auditorium and across the auction block, and it must be done in order, on time, especially since much of the event is broadcast live on Direct TV's HD Theater.

So Mecum enlists the members of the Corvette Club to move the vehicles, many of which are worth six figures. And since Beery needs about 160 people, he put the word out to fellow regional Corvette Clubs for help. A member is required to stay with one vehicle from the time it is dispatched from that distant lot, to the point where it is returned to that lot after crossing the auction block. Mecum pays the Corvette Club for the help, and every penny goes to charity, Beery said.

"I tell our people, 'If you've always wanted to drive a Plymouth Hemi 'Cuda, you can own one for an hour – no one starts it or touches it without your permission, because you are responsible for that car.'"

Then came Beery's pitch: How would I like to wrangle a car from the satellite lot, to the point where it crosses the block on live national TV, then back to the lot?

I think I would.

So I met Beery at the auction, and he assigned me a gorgeous 1967 Chevrolet Camaro RS. It was what's called a "resto mod," meaning it had been restored, but modified by using all-new parts. It had a brand-new, 5.7-liter Chevrolet V-8 engine with 350 horsepower, a five-speed Tremec manual transmission and perfect period-correct Bahama blue paint and white stripes. Basically, it was a brand-new, 43-year-old car.

So, about 7:30 p.m., I sat down in Mecum Lot T211. The cars would be moved in groups of four to a staging area close to the auction floor, then another staging area closer to the floor, then, in order, we'd creep across the action block in the brightly-lit, crowded auditorium. The entire process took about 90 minutes, during which time Lot T211 and I became fast friends.

As we drew closer to the auction, attention from potential buyers toward the Camaro grew, and although all I knew about the car came from a five-minute, 10-mph drive and a brief spec sheet left inside the car – completely restored, came from South Carolina – I became the Camaro's spokesman.

"Started up and drove great," I'd say. "Shifts well. Light clutch action. Firm but compliant ride. Idled for a half-hour and the temperature never topped 180." Oddly, I became a champion of the car, hoping it would sell for lots ot money to a good owner.

Our turn approached. As soon as I entered the building, I had to turn off the engine – fire regulations – and a bevy of teenagers pushed the car toward the clock, as other cars came and went, including an ex- Mark MartinNASCAR racer. As I approached the block, I had to make a hard right turn, then a hard left turn, difficult without power steering (remember, the engine was off) and with the huge front tires.

Lot T210 crosses the block – an immaculate 1964 Shelby Cobra replica that sold for an impossibly low price of less than $25,000 – and it was my turn. I was told to crank the engine and drive 15 feet onto the block, to prove it ran. Until then, the Camaro had been prodded and poked by buyers, doors opened and slammed, trunk and hood opened and slammed as potential buyers swarmed, and made the Camaro and I feel like we were part of a proctology exam.

Then the bidding started. $5,000, $10,000, and climbing. Bidding hovered in the $30,000 range, then launched to the winning bid of $41,000. The seller was delighted: He was hoping for $38,000. The buyer turned out to be a guy bidding over the phone, watching it on TV. I couldn't hear the TV commentary, but I could imagine it: "Wow, nice Camaro, and being driven across the block expertly by some fat dude in a neon green hat!"

After the bidding, I had to drive the Camaro into another hard left turn without power steering, and I felt a lurch in the front end which I attributed to maybe driving off the carpet onto the concrete. As I was pushed out the door, I was greeted by Larry Beery: "Yout just sold a car for $41,000," he said. And left unspoken: And you did it without running over bidders or the TV crew!

As I drove back to the lot, I found out what that lurch was: A power steering hose apparently ruptured, spraying fluid all over the engine. Note to buyer: Hey, it was working when you bought it, and broke 30 seconds later. Sorry. Easy to fix, though.

In the end, it was a comparatively inconsequential transaction: The top sale of the auction was actually a boat, a perfect 1966 Riva Super Aquarama, which went for $775,000. The next four: An Auburn Boattail Speedster ($376,000); a 1957 Pontiac ($213,000), a 1967 Corvette ($180,000), and a 1957 Buick $180,000).

Of course, it all pales next to a Shelby Cobra Coupe Mecum sold at a different auction last year for $7.25 million. Recession? Not at these auctions.